XXII. His step had track'd the waste, his soul had stirr'd The ancient solitudes-his voice had told Of wrongs to call down Heaven.7-That tale was heard. In Hasli's dales, and where the shepherds fold Their flocks in dark ravine and craggy hold On the bleak Oberland; and where the light Of Day's last footstep bathes in burning gold Great Righi's cliffs; and where Mount Pilate's height Casts o'er his glassy lake the darkness of his might. XXIII. Nor was it heard in vain.-There all things press High thoughts on man.-The fearless hunter pass'd, And, from the bosom of the wilderness, There leapt a spirit and a power to cast The weight of bondage down-and bright and fast, Burst from the desert-rock, it rush'd, at last, Through the far valleys; till the patriot-three Thus with their brethren stood, beside the Forest Sea. 8 XXIV. They link'd their hands, they pledg'd their stainless faith, In the dread presence of attesting Heaven They bound their hearts to suffering and to death, To bless such vows.-How man had striven, The foaming sea-wave on, and Egypt's might o'erthrew. XXV. They knelt, and rose in strength.-The valleys lay Ten thousand voices, of the mountains born So far was heard the blast of Freedom's echoing horn! XXVI. The ice-vaults trembled, when that peal came rending The frozen stillness which around them hung; From cliff to cliff the avalanche descending, Gave answer, till the sky's blue hollows rung; And the flame-signals through the midnight sprung, From the Surennen rocks like banners streaming To the far Seelisberg; whence light was flung On Grütli's field, till all the red lake gleaming Shone out, a meteor-heaven in its wild splendor seeming. XXVII. And the winds toss'd each summit's blazing crest, As a host's plumage; and the giant pines, Fell'd where they wav'd o'er crag and eagle's nest, In Werner's dwelling flow'd; through leafless vines From Walter's hearth stream'd forth the festive light, And Erni's blind old sire gave thanks to Heaven that night. XXVIII. Then, on the silence of the snows there lay A Sabbath's quiet sunshine,—and its bell For now the strife was clos'd, the glorious Alps were free! |